The Academic
by aquaamarinee
Summary: Hermione is bored in between Apprenticeships, and decides to enroll in some classes at Oxford. What she encounters is beyond the education she expected: new friends, unexpected allies, and a man the world thought was dead. AU post-DH. Eventual M for adult themes.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N** : Anything taken from Harry Potter is not mine, but good ol' JK's. This is my first non-one shot, please be gentle.

* * *

"Hermione, explain to me again _why_ you're going to a Muggle university?" Harry Potter asked for the millionth time, lying down on his friend's bed and throwing a miniature Quaffle at the ceiling. "You're already done with your Arithmancy apprenticeship, what more will this do? You could get any job in the field that you want!"

Hermione Granger sighed and stood up from the trunk she was reorganizing for the millionth time that day. "Harry, I told you that I want to go into Potions ultimately. I haven't lined up my apprenticeship with a Potions Master yet, and Muggle science could be incredibly useful for future work! Besides, Oxford secretly houses the British Wizarding University, so I could take advanced Potions and Charms classes on the side while getting my Chemistry degree, and then hopefully find an apprenticeship."

"And…you know… _he_ hasn't responded to any of your owls?"

Hermione brushed a strand of curly chestnut hair out of her face. "Not one. I'm starting to think that maybe Ron is right, and that he really _is_ dead, and we just missed his body being removed from the Shack."

After the final battle, when Harry Potter finally defeated Voldemort, it took Hermione a couple hours to remember her mysterious Potions professor - the Order Spy who everyone thought was evil until the very end - lying in the Shrieking Shack after being viciously killed by Nagini. Her guilt at misjudging him for all those years (though not as much as Harry and Ron misjudged the man) propelled her to the Shack as fast as her feet could carry her, only to find that he was no longer there. All that remained of the man was a deep red blood stain where his body had fallen.

Naturally, a number of conspiracy theories erupted from his disappearance. That a rogue Death Eater stole his body, to try to reanimate into an Inferi for later dark deeds. That he was taken by a Ministry worker sent to check the scene, and either cremated or buried, since he was presumed dead and had no family of his own. One person said that he exploded, claiming that Voldemort managed to alter Nagini's venom to be combustable when in contact with human DNA for too long.

The hardest rumor to swallow, however, was that the man was alive. And that Hermione had just left him there to die, not helping him survive.

It all fit, though. There was no record of his body being anywhere, nor was there a magical record of his death on file at the Ministry. No one had heard from him in the three years since the final battle, but there were rumors across the country of those who had spotted him for a moment, only for him to disappear a second later. And then, there was the fact of his portrait in the Headmaster's office.

It had never woken up.

Coming back to reality, Hermione flopped down on the bed next to her black-haired best friend. "I'll only be gone for two years, Harry. I need something to do now that I'm at a break in my apprenticeships. You can easily Apparate to Oxford - there's a special apparition point and everything there! It's not like you won't see me or hear from me at all."

Harry flipped over to look up at the girl. "And what about Ron?"

The girl rolled her eyes. "I'm sorry, Harry, but Ron and I just…didn't work out. What we wanted for our future was too different. You and I both know that. Hell, Ginny is the one who told me that I needed to leave him in the first place!"

Hermione ruffled Harry's unruly hair. "Ron will come to his senses and realize that. I don't want to lose his friendship at all, he means too much to me. But he will find a girl that is absolutely perfect for him. Like you have with Ginny, or like what Neville and Hannah have. He'll be okay. He and I still talk, you know, and I think it's getting closer to normal."

Harry sighed and pushed himself up to a sitting position. "So, this _isn't_ you running away from your breakup?"

Shocked, Hermione laughed at his ridiculous statement. "Gods, no! I mean, sure, it'll be great to avoid the press of it for a bit, but this has everything to do with me really wanting to be the best Potions Mistress I can be, and I think this will really benefit me in the long run. I mean, think of all the Potions Masters out there who don't even understand basic chemistry! The discoveries being made and the advancements in technology are just astounding! And biology, too! Just think, with a broader understanding of human and non-human biology, I could even possibly cure lycanthropy someday…"

"Okay, okay, I get it. Show off," Harry chided as Hermione threw a pillow at her friend. "But what about you?"

"What _about_ me, Harry?"

"When will you find your perfect someone, huh?"

This time, it was Hermione's turn to fall back on her bed and stare at the ceiling. "Oh, I don't know, Harry. I will eventually. Who knows, maybe I will at school. But honestly, I've just decided not to think about that aspect of my life right now. I'm just going to focus on my studies."

"Shocker," Harry muttered, laughing when another pillow hit his face. "Okay, okay, sorry! I just want you to be happy, Hermione. You're like a sister to me, I want to make sure you're okay."

Hermione smiled up at her best friend. "I'll be okay, Harry. I promise."

"Now, will you PLEASE let Ginny take you shopping before you leave for school? I don't know how you got her hooked on all those Muggle fashion magazines, but she's going crazy and insists on giving you a makeover before you leave in three days."

Hermione nodded, trying to hide her panic at the thought of a full makeover. Though she had definitely matured in some ways, her hair was still its bushy nest, and she preferred comfort over style. "How much is this makeover going to entail?"

Harry looked around her room, eyeing what she had already packed. "Are you planning on keeping most of the clothes you already have?"

Hermione nodded.

"You're going to need a second trunk."

* * *

Ginny and Hermione laughed as they strolled arm-in-arm down Oxford Street. Normally, the two girls tried to avoid the more crowded locations in London, but Ginny insisted on the full shopping experience. They had just arrived, and Hermione had to admit that spending the day with the redhead was something she was looking forward to. The day was sunny but not too hot - typical of the end of August. Ginny was just finishing up telling Hermione a story about one of her brothers getting caught with a girl in the shed behind the Burrow.

"And then…Charlie turned and saw mum and said 'can you at least let me finish before you lecture me?!'" Ginny was laughing so hard she could barely breathe, and Hermione had tears running down her face. "She walked back into the kitchen redder than her hair and muttering that Romania has made him too disrespectful. They didn't talk to each other for days!"

Hermione smiled at the story. She missed spending time at the Burrow with the Weasley family. Since her and Ron had broken up, she stopped going, knowing that her presence would make the boy feel uncomfortable. But she missed the closeness and the craziness of the family that had practically adopted her as a second daughter, especially after her parents were unable to recover their memories.

"Mum misses you, you know," Ginny said, practically reading the other girl's mind. "She doesn't want you to distance yourself just because you and Ron broke up. She understands. Honestly, I don't think she thought you two would work together anyways. You're already your daughter, you didn't have to marry her son for that. She wants you to come to dinner tomorrow, to celebrate you going away. She's making all of your favorites."

The kindness of the two Weasley women made tears well in Hermione's eyes. "I miss everyone too. I've been avoiding everyone since the breakup, because I didn't want to make Ron uncomfortable, but…"

"We're your family too, Mione." Ginny stopped outside of a store, and turned Hermione to face her. "Say you'll come, please?"

Hermione couldn't say no to Ginny, and definitely not Molly. "Okay, I'll be there tomorrow."

Ginny beamed. "Great! When we go to the Leaky for lunch I'll send her a Patronus to let her know. Now, we need to completely revamp your wardrobe. I have _so_ many ideas for you!" Ginny began pulling her into the first store she stopped by.

"Ginny, I don't know what you have in mind…"

"Oh come off it Hermione, I know you prefer comfort over fashion, but you can combine the two! That's what I'm here for. You need to step out of your comfort zone into…well, into a new comfort zone. You know, you can be comfy without looking like you still dress like a thirteen year old. It's all about how you _style_ it."

Hermione looked unsure, but she wasn't a Gryffindor for nothing. Summoning her courage, she took a deep breath and looked Ginny in the eyes. "I trust you."

The redhead smiled victoriously, and grabbed onto Hermione's wrist. "Good, I know _just_ what to do."

* * *

Three hours later saw the girls exhausted and laughing, slumping into a booth at The Leaky Cauldron. Both girls' arms were weighed down with shopping bags from every store imaginable; since they went shopping in Muggle London, they could not shrink their purchases until they arrived back at the pub. As much as Hermione was nervous about the day beforehand, she was relieved and happy with the turnout.

A waiter came over, and they both ordered the steak and kidney pie, with Hermione ordering a glass of red wine and Ginny a Firewhiskey. Leaning back against the booth, Hermione sipped the ruby drink, her legs groaning in gratitude that she was no longer walking. She couldn't believe how some women could spend all day in heels! And, furthermore, that Ginny had talked her into buying a couple pairs!

"They're lower to the ground, and the thicker heel will make it easier to balance," Ginny had said. "It'll distribute your weight better, so your feet won't hurt as much."

As Ginny sipped her drink, her eyes sparkled with happiness and exhaustion. "Now, I don't want you wearing any of this tomorrow. Let them think the same old Hermione is the one leaving for Oxford."

"Why?"

"First of all, I don't want Ron drooling over you at dinner, and trying to chase you down. Honestly, you two breaking up was the best thing to happen in a while," Ginny said, placing her glass back down on the table. "Second, we don't want people to get concerned that you're changing too much before you go. You know mom. She'll think you're going to impress a boy and then freak out about grandchildren and whatnot. No, we want her to think that the change occurred when you went to school. That the environment changed you. That you went to Oxford and changed into a woman while studying chemistroph or whatnot."

"Chemistry," Hermione corrected.

"Whatever. Also, really, I don't want you messing up any of your new clothes. Or your hair."

Hermione paused at that. "What about my hair? We haven't done anything to it!"

Ginny smirked. "Yet. I'm coming over tomorrow and teaching you about hair and makeup. No, _don't_ give me that look. You always assume that it's either hours of effort or nothing. You can do simple things that take like, five, ten minutes tops." Their pies arrived, and Ginny began to dig in. "Oxford will never know what hit them."

Hermione started chewing her food, thinking for a minute. "I don't want to feel too different from who I am, Gin."

Ginny scoffed, waving her fork around. "It's not changing yourself, it's emphasizing what you already have. Highlighting your natural beauty. For example, you have these BEAUTIFUL eyelashes, but no one really looks because you don't draw attention to them. And you have gorgeous gold streaks in your hair, but people just pay attention to the curls. If you tame the curls a bit, you'll still look like yourself. Just…more."

"I guess…I'll have to see what you do."

"You're going to love it. Are you going to finish your food?" Ginny reached over, already taking a bite of Hermione's entree.

"Ginny!" Hermione laughed, pulling her food out of reach. Suddenly, the door to the pub burst open, and in walked Blaise Zabini and Draco Malfoy. While Ginny's face cooled over in suppressed hatred, Hermione's just reflected confusion.

"So, you're leaving tomorrow?" Blaise asked as the pair walked up to the bar.

"Yes. I have a lead I'm following, and I intend to see it through," Draco answered nonchalantly, reaching for the glass of FIrewhiskey that was automatically placed in front of him.

"You mean you've heard something about where S-"

" _Not here_ , you idiot!" Draco snapped, before schooling his features once more. "This is not the venue for that conversation, Blaise. We do not speak of these things where anyone and everyone can overhear."

As if on cue, Draco looked over his shoulder at the table that Hermione and Ginny were sitting at. He grabbed his glass and stood from the bar, nudging Blaise to follow him.

"Granger," he said, approaching the side of their table. "Weasley."

"Malfoy," Ginny replied cooly.

"May we join you? It's been so long, I thought we could catch up."

Hermione scoffed. "Why would you want to join us? If I recall correctly, you consider us to be beneath you. Are we not still the bane of your existence?"

Draco rolled his eyes and sat down next to Hermione, forcing her to move down the seat closer to the wall. "You know, Granger, it has been a while since school. People change, or so I've heard. Can the four of us not enjoy a drink together, now that we have matured a bit and moved on in our lives?"

Ginny rolled her eyes at this, leaning back in the booth with her arms crossed, but Hermione considered his words carefully. Loathe as she was to admit it, but he did have a point. "Fine, one drink, but then Ginny and I need to leave. I need to finish packing my flat, and she's helping me." Ginny went to protest, but Hermione swiftly kicked her under the table.

"Packing? Where are you going?" Blaise asked, sliding into the booth next to Ginny.

"University. Oxford," Hermione replied, taking a full glass of wine from the waiter and spinning the liquid around in her glass. "I finished my Arithmancy apprenticeship, and need something to fill the void while I wait to line up my Potions apprenticeship."

Draco smirked. "What a coincidence, that is where I am headed tomorrow. I assume you're attending the Wizarding University there?"

Hermione looked startled. "Both, actually. I'm focusing on higher level Potions and Charms work while earning a science degree from the Muggle campus. What are _you_ doing going to Oxford?"

"Would you believe me if I said bettering myself?" Draco asked, as Blaise chuckled behind his hand.

"No," Ginny retorted, forcing the two men to look at her cooly.

Draco leaned back in his seat. "Well, it's the truth. Partially, that is. I have some contacts for the company that I would like to meet there, and while I'm out there I might as well better my business knowledge a bit, seeing as with my father's… _incarceration_ , I am now in charge of Malfoy Industries."

Ginny's eyes widened, both at his mention of his father and of the implication of his statement. " _You're_ going to a Muggle university?"

His eyes narrowed. "For a bit. I'm taking an intensive course on business law, and to attend a seminar on international trade. I want to ensure Malfoy Industries remains the best of the best, so therefore I must learn as much as I can."

"Seems fair enough," Hermione responded. "And Blaise, what have you been up to?"

The Italian shrugged. "Traveling, staying out of trouble. I work as a business consultant for Malfoy's company, and also own a small branch of apothecaries in Ireland. Working on expanding the company's holdings."

"Ah, the Slytherin businessmen. Seems apt. You two always seemed to hunger after power and control," Ginny remarked.

This time, Blaise narrowed his eyes. "I would've thought we moved past identifying each other solely with our houses," he said.

"Why?" Ginny snapped. "It takes into account aspects of our personality that we ourselves might not even see at the time. I think it is an apt distinguisher of character, do you not?"

"Well sure," Draco drawled. "But you have to admit that one's personality is far more complex than a mere hat can tell. For example, Granger here could've easily been in Ravenclaw, what with the brain she has, or Hufflepuff, as evidenced by her incessant need to care for and fight for what's right," Draco rolled his eyes with this comment. "Or even Slytherin, with what she pulled with Rita Skeeter and the jar she trapped her in."

Hermione's jaw dropped. "How did you know about that?!"

Draco laughed. "Rita is a friend of my mother's. When you finally let her out of that jar, she bitched about you for at least an hour and a half over tea at the Manor. Well done, by the way. That woman is insufferable."

Ginny blinked. "I _guess_ I see your point. But you two still seem to be the most textbook Slytherins I have ever met."

Draco smirked again. "Ah, you would think that. But you are missing one crucial piece of information. The hat almost put the two of us in Ravenclaw. Do with that knowledge what you will, Weaslette. Now, if you'd excuse us, I know you two lovely ladies have somewhere to be. See you at school, Granger," he said, standing up from the table and walking back to the bar.

Blaise followed suit, nodding at the two girls before he rejoined his friend.

"Well that was odd," Ginny muttered, downing the rest of her drink.

"I agree," Hermione said, staring after the two men. "I wonder what business contacts Draco has at Oxford?"

"Who knows," Ginny shrugged. "I guess you'll find out soon enough, though."

"I guess," her friend said absently. Shaking her head, Hermione turned her eyes back to Ginny. "Now come on, you bought me more clothing than anyone in the world needs. The least you can do is help me pack it all. I'll order takeout." The two girls stood and walked into Diagon Alley, apparating back to Hermione's flat.

* * *

Dinner at the Weasley's the next night was an enjoyable affair. As usual, the house was crowded to the point where they had to sit outside to eat. All of the Weasley children were in attendance - even Charlie was back from Romania, with a gorgeous Italian girl on his arm who he met at the dragon reservation. Her name was Martina, and she had tanned skin, dark eyes, and black hair that hung in luxurious waves down her back. Charlie couldn't keep his eyes off her, and Mrs. Weasley couldn't keep her eyes off their joined hands; Hermione knew the woman was mentally planning another wedding. Bill, Fleur, and Victoire were there as well, talking to Remus and Tonks, the latter who was bouncing a violet-haired Teddy on her lap. The two families lived close to each other, and raised their children practically together. Harry had his arm around the back of Ginny's chair, George was flirting with Angelina Johnson - unnecessarily, considering that they were already dating - and Percy was droning on about Ministry work to Kingsley, while Fred mocked him behind his back.

Ron, who was seated next to her, kept glancing at her sheepishly. Hermione finally took pity on the boy and, wiping her hands on her shorts, turned to face him.

"Ron," she started. "I don't want to leave here with things awkward between us. I really want things to go back to normal. I miss your friendship."

Ron smiled at her. "I miss yours too, Mione. And you're right - about us, I mean. It…it never would've worked out. It just has taken me a while to see that. But that doesn't mean I want to lose you in my life. You're too important to me."

A bubble of nerves that she didn't know resided in her stomach popped at his honest confession. "I don't want to lose you either, Ron. And I'm sorry things didn't work out between us. But I want you to be happy, and to find someone that will be perfect for you, and that person just wasn't me."

Ron simply shrugged. "I know that now. It's not worth dwelling on, ya reckon?" He smiled, passing her the bowl of chicken curry - her favorite. "Now, tell me all about your program, eh?"

Hermione laughed, tilting her head back as she did so. "Ronald, are you really interested in hearing about how Muggle science relates to Potions?"

He smiled back at her. "I guess not, no. Just trying to make conversation."

"Oh please, I know you're dying to talk to Harry about your team," she responded. Ron had flown with the Chudley Cannons for a year and a half, before quitting to coach a junior Quidditch team. "You must be proud of them."

Ron beamed. "I am, they've improved so much over the past few months. The junior championship is going to the Catchpole Clippers for sure!"

The team was a summer league mostly, but sometimes students who were homeschooled would come to Ron for training year round, and he was occasionally called by Hogwarts to provide additional coaching for the house teams. Granted, it meant he had to be impartial - even to Slytherins - but luckily he had matured to the point where he could get past old schoolboy grudges, and he was actually great with the kids.

"Oi, Harry, think you can help me out next weekend? I want to hold a Seeking workshop and that's the one position I can't really do."

Harry smiled at his friend. "Sure, what time?"

"Probably 10 am?"

"Send me a Patronus at nine, I'll forget otherwise."

Ron laughed. "Better yet, I'll Floo to Grimmauld and wake you up myself."

Harry's face fell. "You wouldn't. Last time you did that you dumped a bucket of water on my head!"

Ginny, sitting next to him, smirked. "Oh if he comes over this time I'm sure he'll do worse, and I'll help. You need to get better at waking up early, Scarhead."

Harry's face fell as the two redheads and Hermione burst out laughing. She would miss this, she realized, but it was nice that things were beginning to feel back to normal; she would be able to leave for school without any regrets.

* * *

Hermione was trying her best not to fidget as she sat in front of the mirror at the salon, Ginny and Lavender - who had become a magical stylist since leaving Hogwarts - looking at her head.

"I have been waiting since first year to get my hands on you," Lavender practically squealed when the pair walked into her salon. She told her assistant to cancel the rest of her appointments for the day, and closed the place down, immediately pushing Hermione in a chair and mumbling to herself all of the things she wanted to try on the girl.

"We want to keep it simple, Lav, but emphasize what she has," Ginny explained to the stylist.

"I know I _know_ , but I have so many ideas I want to try! Things she can file into her back pocket for later, you know. Oh, I have _dreamed_ of this day! Come, come, I need to wash her hair. Ginny, help me out here. Grab that purple bottle off that shelf, would you?" Lavender pushed her to the sink and tilted Hermione's head back under the stream of warm water.

"Hermione, have you ever gotten your eyebrows done?" Lavender asked.

Hermione furrowed her brow. "What do you mean?"

"Good lord! Ginny, we have more to do than I thought."

Hermione grimaced through brushing, washing, waxing, sitting for an hour with something in her hair - gloss, she thinks? - plucking, painting, lining, and the like. She was in Lavender's salon for _hours_. And she knew she was not done, because Lavender would have to explain through all the things for her new, everyday routine - something that Hermione was dreading, given what she had already been through today. Ginny promised that the routine would be easy, but she felt that going to Lavender kind of derailed that sentiment.

What seemed like a lifetime later, Hermione sat in front of Ginny and Lavender, listening to them explain what to do for her new, improved look.

"Now, use this for shampoo and this for conditioner," Lavender said, passing her a purple and a black bottle. "When you run out, just owl me and I'll mail you more, it's right for your hair, I don't know what you've been using before now but it's all wrong."

"When your hair is damp, put this in it to smooth it out," Ginny continued, passing her a green bottle. "IT's easy, just a bit - you rub it in your hands and smooth it over your hair, it'll smooth out your curls, but not change them. They'll just look more polished. You'll see when we turn you around," Ginny winked.

"The gloss I put in your hair will last for six months, so next time you're in town just pop buy, I'll give you a discount for even just _finally_ letting me work on you," Lavender chuckled, and then picked up a bag with makeup in it.

"Stick to browns and golds for your eyes, honestly just sweep this powder on your eyelids, it'll take thirty seconds," Lavender pointed to a light brown shade she indicated with a small star sticker. "You don't need to line your eyes if you don't want to, but if you do, use this brown pencil - it'll highlight the color of your eyes. And then mascara is self-explanatory, I know you know how to use that, don't lie to me - you wore it for graduation."

Ginny pulled out another thin pencil, this time marked with a blue sticker. "This is for your eyebrows. Just small strokes where they already exist, it will make them look fuller. Trust me. Use _this_ side," she said, indicating a small spool-shaped brush, "to even them out and blend it all in. You got that?" Hermione nodded, remembering what Lavender had done not ten minutes ago.

'So, you ready to see how you look?" Lavender asked, and Hermione nodded. Grinning, Ginny spun her chair around so Hermione could catch her reflection. Hermione gasped at what she saw.

Her curls were not frizzy, but defined, with hints of gold running through each strand. They fell to the middle of her back in perfect ringlets, like she had wished for her entire life. Her eyelids were dusted with a light brown powder, and her eyelashes looked longer than they ever had. Her eyes popped - not because they were different, but because what was done made them brighter than they ever looked before. Her lips were painted with a slightly reddish-pink, which complimented her skin tone. Her eyebrows were still thick, but trimmed, framing her face perfectly.

It was how she wished she looked for years come to life.

"How did you…" Hermione started, still not sure how to react.

"Hun, you made it EASY. You are so naturally beautiful, this is all emphasizing what you've already got." Lavender stood behind her smirking, clearly pleased with the work she had done. "Now, when it comes to formal events and updos, I have _loads_ of ideas so you just have to come back here to see me, but for an everyday look, as long as you stick to what we told you this will be the result. You can also pull your hair into a ponytail like this…" Lavender grabbed her hair and lumped it into a low pony, with strands of hair framing Hermione's face, "or this…" Lavender dropped half the hair she was holding until she was just pulling back the hair framing Hermione's temples.

"I…I can't thank you enough. Both of you," Hermione gasped. Looking at both Lavender and Ginny.

Ginny smiled softly. "Hermione, this is how we normally see you. We just enhanced your natural beauty. You were always stunning. This just helps you to see that." Ginny gently placed her hands on Hermione shoulders as the brunette fought to hold back tears.

"Don't think anything of it, you deserve it," Lavender said, almost in tears herself.

Ginny laughed. "Now, come on," she said, knocking Hermione on the shoulder. "You said I need to help you pack and we're nowhere near done."

* * *

Exhausted, Hermione fell back onto her navy blue couch as Harry passed her a beer. Normally, she was a wine drinker, but right now, the refreshing coolness of the craft beer that Harry brought (he had joined a Muggle beer club and was ALWAYS trying new brews) was the best thing in the world. Off in her new kitchen, she could hear Neville and Ginny arguing over what kind of pizza to order - she regretted ever showing them how Muggle takeout worked.

Harry glanced at her from the loveseat placed perpendicular to the larger sofa. "You look phenomenal, Mione. Ginny and Lav did a great job." He took a swig of his beer and rested his head on the back of the couch. "And your apartment is coming together beautifully."

Smiling, Hermione looked around at her new place. Her apartment was a half mile walk from the school. Thanks to a Squib landlord that was easy to pay off, she was able to expand the studio into anything she wanted. The apartment was light and airy, with white walls and wooden floors throughout the space. The living room was cozy, centering around a brick fireplace and with three walls of floor-to-ceiling bookcases. The kitchen, while small, had plenty of counter space - all white - and a butcher block counter, with a small table in the corner with two chairs. The rest of the apartment was similar. The whole place has large windows wherever there was space, and Hermione managed to create a small terrace off of her bedroom, which hosted a small table and a chair for perfect early-morning reading. The second bedroom was currently being used as an office, though Neville had a clever spell to create a Murphy bed, for when a guest inevitably showed up.

And every spare table, square inch of flooring, and wall space was covered in greenery. For weeks, her and Neville worked to find the best indoor plants, both magical and non-magical, to have in her apartment. She now had ferns cohabiting with monkshood, cacti living next to a magical variant of dewflower that didn't need to be outside. It was her own little greenhouse, and she loved it.

"I already feel at home here." Hermione admitted, taking a sip of beer and looking at the watercolor painting above the fireplace; a gift from Luna on her 20th birthday. "Where is Ron again?"

This time, Ginny shouted from the kitchen. "HE'S ON A DATE," she cried, quickly followed by, "NO, Neville, if you suggest pineapple again I will hex your bollocks off!"

Hermione laughed at the exchange in the kitchen. "Good for Ron, he deserves to be happy," she sighed, turning so her body extended down the entire length of the sofa. "Anyone we know?"

Harry shrugged his shoulder. "I don't know, he was being very secretive about it. It could be anyone."

Ginny walked back into the living room and sat on her boyfriend's lap. "Watch it be Millicent Bulstrode. Anyways, did I tell you Hermione and I ran into Malfoy the other day?"

Harry stood so suddenly his girlfriend toppled onto the floor. "You WHAT?! That bastard, did he do anything to you?!" His chest rose rapidly as he struggled to find his breath, and Neville came to stand in the doorway.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "No, Harry, we were fine. He was oddly pleasant in fact. He's going to Oxford too, something about bettering himself for the business' sake. And he had to meet some business partners in the area or something like that." She swigged her beer and turned to look at Neville. "Thirty minutes, yeah?"

Neville nodded. "Peppers, onions, pepperoni, extra cheese, NO PINEAPPLE," he said, glaring at Ginny.

"Can we FOCUS for a minute?!" Harry seethed. "You're SURE he didn't pull anything?" He looked at Ginny with wild eyes.

"No, he was fine," Ginny said. "Actually, he seemed eager to move on from everything during school and to start over. It was almost nice." Hermione nodded in agreement.

Harry looked nervous as he sat down. "If you say so…" he trailed off, helping Ginny to sit next to him. "But, Hermione, if he tries anything let me know RIGHT away, okay?"

Hermione nodded. "I promise, Harry, but I'm sure it'll be fine. He didn't try anything, and I can't imagine him pulling anything around such a large Muggle population."

Harry nodded, seemingly placated. "Okay, if you say so," he replied. A second later, he perked up. "We should play a game! Hermione, I'm sure you have a bunch of board games. Or we could play a drinking game, have I taught you all Ride the Bus yet? I learned it from an American bloke visiting for an Auror seminar…"

The night faded into a blur of alcohol, pizza, and laughter. At some point, Ginny called to have a bunch of chips delivered, and at two in the morning Neville and Harry were debating the pros and cons of curry versus tartar sauce. Hermione figured she should have been sad, considering they were all going back to London in the morning, but instead she felt incredibly blessed. She truly did have the best friends alive.

* * *

Hermione tossed her curls back behind her shoulder as she sat in her seat in the lecture hall. She was in the center seat in the center row - she wanted her professor to see her and know her from the beginning. She looked down to straighten her white button up shirt, making sure it was tucked into her jeans and that the sleeves weren't bunched under her brown blazer. She had to hand It to Ginny - she really did feel confident in her new clothes.

Since she was twenty minutes early, she was able to sit and watch the other students in her immunology class trickle in. Some were impeccably dressed, even one man wearing a suit, while some stumbled in wearing pajamas and clearly unshowered. Most, if not everyone, was holding some vessel of either coffee or tea. Hermione, herself, had a canning jar full of coffee - she made sure to unpack her coffee maker, but her mugs were not as crucial.

She heard a noise next to her and looked up, startled to see who was sitting down. There, attached to impeccably tailored black pants, a white blouse, and a green jacket, was Pansy Parkinson. Her hair was shorter than it had been in school - only up to her chin - but she looked older, more suited to her features.

"Hello, Granger," the raven-haired girl said, sliding into the chair next to Hermione.

Hermione struggled to find her voice. "Are you the one Malfoy is here to meet?"

Pansy laughed. "Not at all. I could care less about his business. Honestly, I'm here because my mom said the longer I'm learning, the more I can put off my responsibilities as the Pureblood daughter of their dreams," Pansy responded, making a disgusted face. "They want to marry me off to _Nott_ , can you imagine? No, I'd rather hide here in Muggle university, thank you very much. At least here I'm doing something, instead of being a breeding machine."

Hermione had to admit, she enjoyed talking to the Slytherin girl. She was so caught up in the conversation that she did not notice the professor walk into the room.

"I will not tolerate hijinks and tomfoolery in this class. You are here to learn. Do not forget that."

Hermione's blood turned to ice. She looked over at Pansy, and saw she she was not nearly as surprised as herself. She then realized she was front and center, and that there was no way that they could escape unseen.

"Now, my name is Professor Tobias…" the man turned around, long black hair flinging around his shoulder, and black eyes scanning the room. Scanning, that is, until they fell on one Hermione Granger.

"SHIT," the man yelled, startling the class.

Hermione wanted to vomit. She couldn't tell if what she was seeing was a dream come true or her worst nightmare.

Severus Snape. The missing man. The one half the world thought was dead. The hero everyone was searching for.

Severus Snape was her professor, once again.


	2. Chapter 2

Hermione could not believe her eyes. She felt her mouth go dry and her palms go sweaty. What she was seeing could not be real.

She had spent the past few years looking for Severus Snape. She had never believed him to be dead; she just wanted him to come back and receive what he was due for his effort in the war.

And to apologize for leaving him to die in the Shrieking Shack.

But looking at him now, in the flesh, she didn't know what to do.

He looked good. Amazing, in fact. His black hair looked clean and no longer greasy, and was tied back in a ponytail that fell between his shoulder blades. His skin had lost its sallow hue, and was instead naturally light, though there was subtle evidence that he spent time in the sun frequently. His shoulders seemed broader - evidence of working out - and he looked less frail. He must have been eating more and sleeping better.

In short, he looked amazing. She didn't know what to do.

Snape was standing there staring at her, mouth slightly open and eyes wide. Well, wide for his standards. Those who did not know him - that is, most of the class - would not know that there was something wrong with their new immunology professor. His eyebrows were almost up into his hairline for a second, before he schooled his features once again and addressed the rest of the class.

"As I was saying, my name is Professor Tobias Evans. You will address me as Professor Evans, or simply Professor. I do not tolerate tardiness, slacking off, gossip, joking, or laziness in my classroom. This is Oxford, you will treat your presence here as the gift it is."

Hermione blinked. He was definitely still Professor Snape. If the voice itself didn't give it away, the way he spoke definitely did. That tone of voice and eloquence sucked in even the most disrespectful student and, looking around the class, she saw the students already engaged in his speech, his small outburst forgotten entirely. She turned to look at Pansy, expecting shock to mar her features as well. Instead, the girl was leaning back in her chair, arms crossed across her chest, and a smirk on her face.

 _She knew_ , Hermione realized.

The thought sent anger coursing through her veins. She had sent him letter after damn letter, and they had all been sent back unopened, but here Pansy was - as Slytherin, yes, but not one he was particularly close to - looking like an agent watching her prize fighter step back into the ring after a fight.

What gave Pansy the right to know, and not her? Sure, she was a Gryffindor, and accidentally left him to die in a shack, but she had been the one looking for him, imploring for him to come back. It was not fair that not only was she left in the dark, but someone else was able to learn his secrets.

Unless….

Shaking her head, Hermione brought herself back to the lecture. Professor Snape (or Evans, and Hermione rolled her eyes at that less than subtle nod to Lily Potter, Merlin forbid the man lets go of his past) was talking about his expectations regarding the course. Granted, Hermione didn't feel that she needed to pay that much attention, considering she figured his standards would be the same as they were for any other class he ever taught.

"The human body is a complex mechanism. Like anything else in the world, there are ways your body can thrive, and ways your body will inevitably fail. Your bodies are not perfect. They have weaknesses, ways that they slow down faster than others. Some of you may be allergic to lactose, while some of you will die merely because there is a peanut in the room.

"As is such, it is my duty to teach you how these mechanisms within your bodies work. Why it is so hard, and so deadly, if you catch bird flu or swine flu, as opposed to what we all consider the normal flu. Why it is that the brain can eat itself. What causes the body to initiate a line of defense once introduced to a pathogen. This is what I will attempt to teach you over the next few months, and what you will hopefully learn."

Hermione looked around and saw the class hanging off of Snape's every word. _Figures_ , she thought, that they would all be pulled into the mysterious professor's ways. He always started off each semester with a speech that lured even the least attentive student into a state of complete focus. The man had a way of captivating an audience, and it was almost refreshing to see that this carried over even years after he had left Hogwarts. His voice was so captivating that none of the students seemed to remember his outburst at the beginning of the class.

Somewhere to her left, a male student raised his hand. Snape's eyes snapped on the student, and narrowed at the interruption.

"What, Mister…"

"Stevens, sir. Professor. Um, pardon my asking, but are you not the professor for all of the advanced chemistry classes?"

If possible, Snape's eyes narrowed even further.

"Should I not be capable in both chemistry and biology, as a top science scholar at the university? Does the study of biology not depend on chemistry, and vice versa? So then, why is it so strange that I may opt to teach a topic I find fascinating that falls underneath that umbrella?"

The student gulped, clearly regretting his question.

"You should be lucky, Mister Stevens, that you are receiving the best possible education you possibly could in the subject, but not. Instead you are concerned that your professor falls outside of the department." Snape shook his head, with a devilish smirk on his face. "How… _unfortunate,_ " he drawled, "that this is the sticking point of your education. If you feel that you can not possibly learn a topic of biology from a _chemistry_ professor, then do not hesitate to leave. I do not tolerate close-mindedness in this classroom, and you, Mister Stevens, clearly are suffering from a damaging case of ignorance. I assure you, your presence will not be missed if you choose to leave."

The class sat in complete silence, with every eye on Stevens, waiting to see if he would leave. A minute passed, and Snape stood up straight, claiming victory for himself.

"Now, if there are no more _interruptions_ ," Snape said, looking pointedly at Stevens, "then I would appreciate if we could continue with our scheduled lesson. Now, how many of you know…"

In all honesty, Hermione could not tell you all of the details that Professor Snape went over in class. Sure, her mind caught onto key terms such as T-Cells, macrophages, and lymphocytes. Sure, there was no doubt in her mind that when she looked back at her notes today everything would be captured perfectly - granted, whether or not that was due to her ability to take notes under all conditions, or the charm she placed on her pen to record lectures, she could not say. But her mind was far away from that introductory lesson on immunology.

Severus Snape was _alive_. And not only was he alive, he seemed to be thriving. He looked far better than she had ever seen him - well fed and well rested, and walking around with an ease that belied his nature of always being on guard. Which means that, more likely than not, he had not been on the run, but instead staying in one place. She wondered how long he had been teaching at Oxford. She had not bothered to do any research on the professors for the regular classes, instead focusing on the Magical faculty to possibly find a Mentor.

So he was not teaching any of the Magical classes, but seemed to have been here for a while.

She was curious why he was not a part of the Magical faculty, but then she figured his skills would give him away, and if he was trying to stay hidden it was not the best option. Hermione tried to think of everything she knew about the man. He was highly intellectual, which explained his flocking to one of the most prestigious institutions in the world. He was a man of habit, which explains his staying in England, rather than escaping to the mainland or even America. He was secretive, which meant he would not want people outside of those he trusted completely to know where he was and what he was doing. Which means her arrival threw a wrench in his security. Bollocks.

Before she knew it, the class had ended. She gathered her things and shoved them all in the leather backpack that Harry and Ginny had bought for her as a going away present. It was supple and smooth, and equipped with an undetectable extending charm as well as a weightlessness charm. "To preserve your back," they both said with a wink.

Pansy gave her a once-over before turning to walk out of the row. "I have to admit, Granger, you look great. The look suits you. Never thought you had it in you. Well, see you around." And with a spin of her hair, she was off out of the room, making it look easy to walk in precariously high heels.

Hermione wished she had time to speak to Snape, but she had to rush if she was going to make it to her Advanced Potions Theory class in ten minutes. As she approached the door to the classroom, she looked over her shoulder one last time. In response, she saw Snape's dark eyes glaring in her direction. With that, she quickly ran from the room.

* * *

Severus Snape slammed the door to his office and locked it, flicking his wand to set up an additional set of wards outside of the door. His demeanor never necessarily projected "warm, welcoming professor", so students never gave a second thought about the fact that his office was practically non-existent. Granted, a witch or wizard could easily access his office - his wards recognized others with magical blood in case of an emergency. But not one of his students had ever been a wizard or witch.

Until now.

Grimacing, he summoned a bottle of Whistle Pig and a crystal glass, pouring himself a few fingers before tossing it back as he slumped into his office chair. While he was at Hogwarts, he would've considered the bottle an indulgence, but he had come into his own once escaping the Shack. He had known he was likely to be a target on either side, so he prepared for the situation - holding antivenin, blood replenisher, dittany, and a bezoar on his body at all times, and liquidating all of his assets before the final battle. Funnily enough, a real estate developer wanted to buy Spinner's End to construct a shopping center, and he was able to milk out a significant profit from the company. On top of that, he still made a decent profit off of the patents from the potions he invented. He looked around his office at the subtle signs of wealth.

Yes, since he faked his own death - thanks to Voldemort's half-assed assassination attempt, I mean honestly he was a Potions Master, of _course_ he could survive a snake bite - he had been able to make a name for himself. He spent half a year recuperating at an abandoned Malfoy summer home in Cyprus, waiting to regain use of his vocal cords and to be able to walk as confidently as he used to. From there, he traveled to France - attending seminars under a disguise, investing in new potions he found promising, and sleeping with a number of women who were willing to spread their legs but not desperate enough to equate that with emotion. After a few months, he grew bored, and assumed the position he had now at Oxford - an upper level chemistry professor. Potions and chemistry had enough in common where he passed as a scholar for his interview, and at the same time was able to gain an advanced degree from Harvard at night (granted a few timely _Confundus_ charms helped with that).

Combined with his Potions Mastery, he now had a doctorate in Chemistry and a Masters in Immunology and Biology, which actually played a huge role in his abilities as a Potions Master. He was able to focus his potions on more specific areas of the body, and developed a line of personalized potions that simply require a piece of human DNA, much like Polyjuice.

Yes, in his time since his 'death' in the Shack, he had done well for himself. But now, he felt off balance. All due to the arrival of one bushy-haired reminder of his past.

He had known that Hermione Granger had been sending him letters since his disappearance. He knew she wanted to contact him, to find out if he was okay and to award him with his Order of Merlin. But he didn't want that reminder of his past - neither the recognition to remind him of the war, nor the massive crowd that would inevitably assault him, acknowledging that they "didn't know the truth" and that they "were sorry for treating him poorly."

No, he wanted his distance from that entire part of his life. His survival was a new lease on life. So he turned all of her letters away. But now she was here, insinuating herself in his life once again. He poured himself another two fingers of whiskey, this time sipping it slowly instead of downing it completely.

Was she there on purpose to bring him back? No, there was no way, she was just as surprised as he was to see him. Which means she had no idea where to find him. He was surprised she did not try to hound him after class, but assumed that the Know-It-All from Hogwarts would be attempting a full course load here as well.

He cursed himself for his unnaturally shocked reaction when he saw the Granger girl. Pansy, he expected - she had written him saying she was attending school to get away from her parents…plans for her, which he could understand completely. She was one of the few students he kept in contact with, and it was solely for self-preservation reasons. He had bumped into her at a conference in Paris and didn't want her spreading the news to the world that he was alive, so he offered to be a pen pal of sorts and to give her advice in life in exchange for her silence on the issue of his survival. Of course, she had told Draco about his survival, but he wanted his godson to find out sooner or later anyways, so that was a non-issue. But Granger…

He supposed this was karma for not reading his class rosters in advance. His lack of a desire to get to know his students, combined with his ability to memorize last names when told to him by the student themselves make him burn the rosters he gets as soon as they are sent to him. The computer in his office was merely for show - he hated using the thing, preferring to do everything by hand - and therefore he did not check the online roster when it was posted, either. But he still shouldn't have let his surprise show. He was a Master Spy, trained to keep his emotions in check at all times. His outburst at seeing the former pain of his existence should not have happened; that kind of reaction is for those who wear their hearts on their sleeves.

 _Like Gryffindors_ , he thought with a cynical chuckle.

He then had a sudden thought that made him pinch his nose in disappointment. He was going to have to talk to her. The last thing he needed was for her to blab to any of her friends about his survival. He _especially_ did not want Potter to find out. He shuddered at the thought of the brat knocking down his door to offer his apologies, gratitude, and admiration for a man he hated and tried to frame as evil for seven years of his life. No, he did not want that to happen at all. Which meant interacting with Granger one on one. Which meant bringing the bushy-haired chit into his office. _Though her hair isn't really bushy anymore_ , his mind retaliated, and he shook his head to dismiss the thought.

Spinning around in his chair, with his glass still in his hand, he reached for a piece of paper and a pen. While pens were undoubtedly easier to use than a feather quill, he sometimes missed the luxury of a nice quill. Writing a short note to Miss Granger, he thought of the possible ways to deliver it to her, before deciding to call upon his house-elf. He needed to get his note to her before she could run off and blab to Potter and Weasley.

"Gilly!"

The small elf popped into his office almost silently. "What can Gilly do for Master Snape, sir?"

Snape started at the odd little creature. "I need you to find out where a Miss Hermione Granger lives, and to deliver this letter to her at her address. Only deliver it to her at her home. If she is not there, leave it on her table and then leave. Do not be seen by any Muggles. Do you understand?"

Gilly nodded, ears flopping ridiculously around her small head. "Gilly can do that, and Gilly will do it right now, Master Snape, sir!" The elf took the letter from his outstretched hand and disappeared.

* * *

Hermione slammed the door of her apartment, reflecting on what a hectic day she had just run through. Not only did she have a full course load, splitting her time between the Science Area and the Magical Campus underneath the library, causing her to run around like a chicken with its head cut off, she had the shock of her life this morning in finding out Severus Snape was alive. It was now mid afternoon, and all she wanted was a soak in her tub and a large glass of red wine.

She was only a few steps into her kitchen and reaching for a glass when a loud _POP_ made her jump. Turning around with the glass in her hand, and thankful that she did not drop it when she was startled, she was shocked to find a house-elf in her kitchen. She was probably the smallest elf she had ever seen,

"Gilly was told to give this to Hermione Granger by Master. Is you Hermione Granger?" The elf's eyes widened when looking at the girl.

"Umm…yes, I is-I _am_ Hermione Granger," she replied, puzzled at who the elf's "Master" possibly was.

The elf smiled, clearly pleased with herself. "Then this is for you!" Gilly handed Hermione the letter and disappeared with another loud POP.

Hermione placed the glass on the table and filled it with the open Merlot on her counter, and turned to open the letter. There was no name on the envelope, but once she opened the paper on the inside, she knew immediately who it was from; she would recognize that particular handwriting anywhere. She felt her stomach drop.

 _Miss Granger, you will meet me at my office at 8 pm tonight. I trust you can use that brain of yours to find where in the ICL building it is located. Do not be late._

 _S.S._

Hermione sighed. She had wanted to take a bath, order takeout, and get to bed early, but did not want to risk Snape's ire by showing up late because she didn't give herself enough time to get there. Looking at her watch and seeing it was almost five in the evening, she figured she should leave now and find a place to sit and eat, and then maybe review from class a bit and think about what on _earth_ she was going to say to the man. She put a stasis charm over her wine, grabbed her bag, and walked out the door.

* * *

The cafe she found was close to South Parks Road. The atmosphere was cozy enough, but large enough where she was not going to have to fight for seating with other customers. She had just turned from the counter with a fig, brie, and prosciutto sandwich and a small coffee when she saw three familiar faces sitting at a secluded corner near the back.

Squaring her shoulders, Hermione walked over and placed her food down in front of the empty chair at the table hosting Draco, Blaise, and Pansy. The three looked up from their conversation at her intrusion, and just stared at her as she cast a silent _Muffliato_ and sat down with them.

Hermione turned to look at Draco. "Snape. Snape is the business partner you're here to talk to, isn't he?"

Blinking, Draco leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. "How did you find out?"

Pansy laughed. "Draco, she's in my immunology class with me. You should have seen him when he saw her, I've never seen him lose control like that!"

Blaise looked at her incredulously. "Snape doesn't lose control."

"He did when he saw her. Shouted in the middle of his introduction. You'd think he was set on fire or something."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Honestly. It wasn't _that_ bad. But seriously, why is it that no one knows he's alive?!"

Draco sighed and leaned forward, propping his forearms up on the table. "Look, Granger, the war ended years ago and the man let himself be presumed dead. Don't you think the reason no one knows is possibly because he doesn't want anyone to know? The man was a Master Spy - half the world adores him on the word of some student he hated, and half the world still wants him dead, either for being a Death Eater or betraying the Dark Lord. He wanted to disappear, and I don't blame him."

Hermione thought about what Draco said. It all seemed to make sense. "But why is it that you three know, then? What's so special about the three of you? No offense," she added, looking at her three companions. Pansy and Blaise just shrugged.

"He's my godfather, so I probably have the largest right to know," Draco responded. "That being said, he didn't even tell me. I found out from Pansy, who found out by accident. Can you believe that? Turns out, he was hiding out in one of my family's old summer homes until he finished healing, and he didn't even tell me! What a prick, honestly." Draco sipped his coffee. "I told Blaise because he needed to know for business reasons, but since me and Pans are the only two he really talks to now, it didn't matter."

Hermione turned to Pansy, confused. "Wait, you found out by accident? How did that happen?"

Pansy shrugged. "I ran into him at a conference in Paris. He panicked, I told him I wouldn't tell anyone - except Draco - if he promised to let me write to him should I need any advice about how to do deal with certain situations. That's why he wasn't surprised to see me in his class, he knew I was taking it already.

Hermione slumped down in her chair. "So, he's been alive all this time…"

Draco looked at her quizzically. "What's got you so upset, Granger? I didn't think you liked him that much."

She didn't look up. "I didn't. I mean, he was a right bastard to me in school. But I always admired him and respected his intelligence. I never thought he was evil, not like Harry and Ron did…well, except for a bit after the whole Dumbledore thing…" She trailed off, careful not to look at Draco - though he had been cleared of all charges due to his age, she knew it was likely a tough topic for him. "But I was there, in the Shack when he was bitten, and I just… _left_ him there. I thought he was dead. By the time I went back for him, he was gone. I felt horribly guilty. I still do, especially knowing he's alive, and I didn't do a thing to help him."

The three Slytherins looked at her in shock. It was Pansy who broke the silence first. "No wonder you looked like death when you saw him in class."

Hermione actually laughed. "Yeah, it was a bit of a shock, to say the least." She straightened, and thought, not for the first time, that her three formal rivals were surprisingly different than she remembered, and actually quite easy to talk to. "You know," she started, changing the subject from Snape, "you three are nothing like I remembered."

Pansy smiled, Blaise nodded, and Draco just smirked again. The three of them didn't look remotely offended by her observation.

"People change. Especially when they are no longer being forced to do certain things and act a certain way by overbearing parents who sold themselves to a tyrannical despot," the blond man offered with a shrug. "I mean, sure, we all acted like right gits at school, and no one more than me…" at this he trailed off for a moment, looking down as if he was considering something. "I acted horribly, and did some truly nasty things when I was younger. But being away from all of that allowed me to actually be the person I want to be, rather than what my father wanted of me. Mother's happy. She only wanted me to be happy and successful, and I am. I think she's happier without him anyways."

Hermione only nodded. She knew that Lucius was in Azkaban for life, not only for dedicating himself to Voldemort and to carrying out unspeakable acts in his service, but also for endangering his family by forcing them into his service as well. She figured Lucius was still alive in the prison, only because she hadn't heard news of the contrary.

Draco shook his head and lifted his eyes again, a small smile tugging on his lips. "But anyways, the point is that while we were horrible at school, a lot of that wasn't by choice. Sure, I still think I'm better than everyone, but not because of blood status. Now, I just think that because I know I am."

Blaise punched Draco on the shoulder. "Yeah, right. If you're better than everyone I'm the inventor of Wolfsbane. Besides, everyone knows that I'm smarter, and far better looking, than you."

Pansy shook her head. "They always do this. Both of them think they're the kings of the universe, but really they're just overgrown children with gigantic egos."

Hermione laughed, the movement shaking her brown curls. "You know, I've never asked but I've always wondered. Are you and Draco…"

The other girl's eyes sparkled. "No way! Draco and Blaise are both like brothers to me. I could never date either of them. Granted, my parents always pushed me toward Draco, I think hoping for a marriage contract for the two of us. But when Lucius was arrested they quickly changed _that_ idea, and started pushing me towards Theo Nott instead. And Blaise's mom doesn't care about contracts, considering how many husbands she's had."

At the mention of his name, Blaise turned his head toward the two girls. "I'm destined to be a life-long bachelor. Why would I deny the women of the world something so perfect?" He smirked.

Draco snorted. "Yeah, perfectly horrible."

Hermione giggled at the pair's boyish behavior. If she was being honest with herself, she would say it reminder her of watching Harry and Ron, only this time she had someone else looking in with her on the outside. While Ginny would normally jump into the boys' antics, Pansy joined her in watching, and silently mocking. She found that she was greatly enjoying their company.

Suddenly, she remembered the reason she had stopped at that specific cafe in the first place. "Fuck!" she cried, getting up from her seat quickly. "I'm supposed to meet Snape in his office in a half hour. I have to run." She turned, grabbing her bag and her jacket as she made to leave the restaurant, but then paused and turned back to look at the three still seated.

"Do you….think we could all do this again? I mean, spend time together? I really enjoyed it." She cursed herself inwardly for sounding so nervous, but she didn't want to seem too presumptuous. After all, they _had_ all hated each other at school.

To her surprise, they all smiled at her - well, Pansy and Blaise smiled, Draco just smirked.

"Sure, Granger. We're here most nights, or we're at my place. But I can call you to set something up," he said, holding up a cell phone.

Hermione looked on in shock. " _YOU_ have a cell phone?"

He shrugged. "Sometimes it's easier and more convenient than sending a nocturnal bird to deliver mail," he responded with a chuckle.

Pansy smacked his shoulder. "We're having dinner at mine tomorrow, I can let you know the address in class tomorrow, if you'd like?"

Hermione smiled. "I'd like that. I'll see you all tomorrow, then." And with that, she ran from the cafe.

Blaise sat back in his chair, silent for a minute after the brunette had left the shop. "She's definitely less annoying now than she was in Hogwarts."

Pansy sighed. "It's not like I can blame her, think of how people treated her." The implication that 'people' meant the three of them was not lost.

Draco sipped his now-cold coffee. "Yeah, well, she _was_ still annoying in her own right. Me picking on her teeth didn't turn her into a hand-waving Know-It-All." He paused, using a discrete warming charm to heat his drink back up. "Besides, it's nice to see others moving on too."

Blaise nodded his head in agreement. "Wonder why she's meeting Severus?"

Pansy shrugged. "No clue."

"Maybe they're banging?"

"BLAISE!"

"What, isn't that, like, every professor's fantasy?"

Pansy huffed. "I don't know, but considering how pissed he looked to see her, I highly doubt it's that."

Blaise rolled his eyes. "if you say so. Now, who wants to buy me a croissant?"

* * *

Hermione knocked tentatively on the faded wood door, marked with a sign reading "Professor T. Evans". The door had appeared out of nowhere as she walked down the hallway. Despite her supposed Gryffindor courage, she could feel her palms growing sweaty, and her heart beating out a wild drumbeat in her chest. Checking her watch one more time, she saw the second hand rapidly approaching the arrival of 8pm, and, steeling herself, knocked on his office door.

"Enter," came from inside.

She pulled the old door open and stepped into his office. The room was sizable, with dark furnishings, though far less creepy than his office at Hogwarts. The chair behind his desk was black leather with wide armrests, and the chairs facing him were of deep blue material that looked incredibly inviting despite the coldness of the professor's demeanor. Two entire walls were covered with bookshelves stuffed to the brim with tomes of different sizes. His desk reached halfway down one wall, and a computer sat in the corner, seemingly unused. On top of a shelf next to the door sat a bottle of whiskey, some glasses, and a tea set. Under her feet, a dark grey shaggy rug covered the worn floor.

Severus was grading papers as Miss Granger walked in, and didn't bother to look up even when he heard the door closing behind her. He did, however, when after a few minutes he did not hear her sitting down.

"Miss Granger, are you just going to stand there all day?" he snapped before looking up, and what he saw made him glad he finished speaking before he looked at her.

When she was in his class earlier today, he did not get a great look at her. She was a few rows up, sitting down, and he steered clear of her direction whenever possible when teaching the remainder of the class. But now, looking at her in such close proximity for the first time in years, he felt his breath hitch for just a moment.

Hermione Granger was a woman now.

She was wearing a soft-looking white button down shirt, tucked into a pair of faded jeans that hugged her hips, but that weren't tight on her legs. Her hair, curly and unruly as ever, cascaded over her shoulders and down her back in a tangle of chestnut and gold. Her eyes seemed to pop with both wisdom and nervousness, and all of the signs of her youth had melted away to reveal, ultimately, a woman with an enticing face and amazing body.

He blinked, bringing himself back to his senses. _Get it together, man_ , he chastised himself. He narrowed his eyes before he regarded her a second time.

"Are you deaf, now, Granger? Or did you just lose the ability to follow directions. Sit." With that, Hermione sank into one of the chairs, placing a brown blazer and leather bag on the chair next to her.

Severus steepled his fingers and stared at his former - and current, he supposed - student. "So," he started. "Miss Granger has found where I've been hiding."

He watched as Hermione bit her lip. _Shit that's attractive. Wait, why did I just think that_?

Pausing, he continued. "I don't think I need to stress to you the importance that you NOT tell anyone where I am or that you have seen me. The last thing I need is the Prophet, the Ministry, or worst of all those imbeciles you call friends to find out about me being here. Is. That. Clear?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes, sir, it is."

"You haven't contacted those two idiots already, have you?"

"Please, I haven't had the time to do so. I'm taking a full course load in two different schools. Besides, where would I have been able to discreetly send an owl or a Patronus? Sir, I'd like to think you'd know I'd have a bit more discretion than that. Besides, I respect you more than to just run off with your secrets to two people I know you've despised for years."

Severus blinked, surprised at her bluntness. "Very well."

Hermione sat in awkward silence as her old Potions professor appraised her. As he had not dismissed her, she did not dare get up to leave; while some things had changed since the war, and while she was definitely no longer a child, there were some people you simply never crossed, and Severus Snape was one of them.

Finally, he spoke after what felt like a lifetime of silence. "Why are you here, Miss Granger?"

She paused. "Well, I'm in your office because you asked me to be…"

"No, not in my office. At Oxford at all."

Hermione chuckled. "Why are you surprised that I'm seeking as much knowledge as I can, Professor?"

Snape narrowed his eyes. He would never admit out loud that he liked talking to the girl who drove him up a wall at Hogwarts, but this 30-second long conversation with Hermione Granger was the most interesting thing to happen to him since starting this job.

"Point taken, but why science?"

"Well, I I finished my first Mastery, and now I'm-"

"Wait, you have a Mastery?"

Hermione paused. "Yes…in Arithmancy. I'm surprised you didn't know, aren't all Masters updated when new ones are inducted, particularly in fields with a certain level of crossover?"

The dark man looked her straight in the eyes. "Not if said Master is presumed dead."

Hermione's eyes widened in shock. "OH! Of course, sir. Sorry, sir. Well, yes, I received my Mastery in Arithmancy just a few months ago, and I figured that taking classes both at Oxford and the Wizarding University would be a good way to bide my time until…" she trailed off.

"Until what, Miss Granger?"

He watched as Hermione shook her head, her curls fanning out around her face like a halo. _Stop THINKING these things!_

"Oh, nothing. Nothing important really. Let's just say I'm interested in the intersection of Magic and Muggle advancements in science. This is just filling a curiosity for me."

Severus let her fall silent again, wondering what it was that she could be trying to accomplish without telling him.

"Why are you teaching science at a Muggle university?"

Her voice startled him out of his thoughts, and he looked at her through narrow eyes. She looked like she truly wanted to talk to him, which was novel for him, especially from a student of his. However, he still did not feel like opening up to this girl, no matter how refreshing someone new to talk to was.

"Miss Granger, I hardly believe that is any of your business. Let me just say that it was the perfect place to remain hidden from the Magical world and people who do not find me favorable. Until now, at least."

Hermione swallowed down the lump in her throat. "Professor, I promise you I won't tell a soul you're here. I mean, I talked to Pansy, Draco, and Blaise about it, but they already knew, so I assume that's different-"

"When were you talking to them?" He almost growled.

"B-before I came here, sir. I went to grab dinner and ran into them at a coffee shop. I had talked to Draco before arriving to school and he said he was coming to the area to meet a client, and I put two and two together when I saw you in class. And they told me how Pansy found out you were alive, and that Draco is your godson, and I SWEAR I only talked to the three of them about this and bloody fucking _HELL_ I need to stop talking now."

Had he been a lesser man, Severus would have snorted at her outburst, especially at the end. But given who he was, he didn't even allow himself that. "Very well. It's nice to see you are getting better taste in friends, Miss Granger. But I must insist you do _not_ talk to anyone else about me outside of those three, and I'd prefer you did it in private.

"If there is nothing else, you're dismissed. I'll see you in class tomorrow."

Hermione nodded and bent to grab her jacket and her bag. She made it to the door before turning to look over her shoulder. His head was down, focusing on a paper on his desk, and a red pen sat in his hand. Her mind told her to just turn and leave the room, but she found herself speaking anyways.

"I need a Potions Master to study under for my apprenticeship."

She slapped a hand over her mouth in disbelief that she even spoke, and Snape's head shot up like a rocket.

"And why, Miss Granger, are you telling me this?"

Hermione swallowed and turned fully back towards his desk. "My goal isn't to work in arithmancy, its to work in Potions. I want to study with the best, and I have yet to find a Master that I truly want to study under. I-now, knowing you're alive, and, well, here…"

Severus dropped the paper he was looking at. "Miss Granger, are you trying to tell me that you want me to come out of my self-induced exile to lead you through an apprenticeship?"

Hermione's head dropped. "Well, when you put it like that…"

"Furthermore, you and I never got along, I found you insufferable for years, you act as if all of the knowledge of the world is simply something you're entitled to, and, if I remember, you have a habit of spewing facts rather than employing real creativity and thought. On top of all of that, you until recently believed me to be _dead_."

"Sir, I never actually believed you were dead-"

"SILENCE."

Hermione froze, feeling like a first year again.

"I had not finished. Given all of those things, why on earth do you think I would give you the opportunity to study for your Mastery under me?"

She paused. She had a feeling this wasn't simply a hypothetical question, but if she answered wrong there was no way he would ever agree.

"I'm waiting, Miss Granger."

Straightening her head, she looked him in the eyes before answering. "Because it gives you the perfect opportunity to put me in my place, and prove you were right about me all along."

Severus chuckled before he could help himself. "Tempting offer, Miss Granger. We will see. I will let you know my answer by this time next week. Now do me a favor and leave me alone."

She left before she could dig herself into any more trouble, and the door shut behind her with a soft click.


	3. Chapter 3

"Wait, so _what_ did he say?" Pansy asked, pouring more red wine into the glass that Hermione was holding out to her.

Hermione laughed as she set her drink back down on the table. "I swear to Merlin, I asked if he'd let me be his apprentice, and not only did he _not_ hex me into next week, but he said he'd think about it!"

"Are you sure you're not a _really_ solid looking ghost?"

"Oh shove off!" Hermione laughed as the black haired girl sat down across from her.

The two girls were sitting in Pansy's kitchen, waiting for Draco and Blaise to arrive for dinner. While in class earlier today, Pansy had reminded Hermione none too gently that "we are having dinner at my place tonight and you _have_ to be there, and you WILL be there if I have to find your place and shove you through the Floo myself."

Since today was a relatively early day for Hermione, having only her three hour Intensive Charms class after Snape's class, she managed to leave campus early to go home and clean herself up. She arrived at Pansy's place an hour later, wearing red satin pants and a cream colored blouse, holding a bottle of elf-made wine she bought herself "just because".

Where Hermione's apartment was bright and minimalist, Pansy's was practically decadent. The mantle in the living room was ornately carved from dark wood, and framed with couches and chairs upholstered in varying shades of jewel-toned velvet. Everywhere she looked, there was something covered in a luxurious fabric, such as leather or fur. The walls, however, were painted a light cream color, so not to completely darken the smaller space.

The kitchen, where they were sitting, was glorious - magically extended, with dark wood cabinets and a counter so white and gleaming Hermione could've imagined people thinking it was moonstone. Hermione was sitting in a chair covered in a soft, royal blue fabric, at a small round table that was supposedly hand-carved by a woodworker who was favored by Merlin. "It's a family heirloom. The story's probably rubbish, to be honest, but it's still beautiful," Pansy had said when she led Hermione into the kitchen to open the wine.

"Honestly, Hermione, I'm surprised he let you even stay in his office long enough to ask him to let you be his apprentice. I figured, when you said you had to meet him, that it would be more like his usual 'yelling and then kicking you out' type situation." Pansy swirled her wine around in her glass before taking a sip.

"I'm just as surprised as you are," she responded, taking a sip of her own wine. Putting her glass down, she thought back to the conversation she had with her professor the night before. He didn't look as tired or angry as she expected him to - worried and a bit annoyed, yes, but none of the extreme harshness from her youth showed on his face. Despite a few lines, his skin looked smooth and unbothered. When he was leaning back in his chair and appraising her, his shirt showed the smallest hint of muscular definition underneath. She realized when she was in his office that she preferred seeing his hair pulled back as it was, though she could imagine how it felt in her hands, now that it wasn't greasy….

"Hermione? You alive in there?"

"Oh, um…" Hermione blushed, not realizing that she had been staring down at the table and not listening to Pansy for the past several minutes.

"What's gotten you so lost, hmm?"

Hermione sighed. "I dunno, Pansy…"

Pansy leaned across the table to get closer to Hermione. "Seriously, what is it?"

Hermione took a larger sip of wine and took a deep breath. "He looked amazing."

Pansy blinked, leaning back so she was sitting straight in her chair. "Who, Snape?"

She nodded. "Yeah, he looked really, _really_ good. Not just in the shocking kind of way where he looks different than he did at Hogwarts. But he looks, objective, bloody fantastic."

Pansy looked at Hermione in shock. "Do you fancy Snape?"

"NO!" Hermione yelled. "No, I don't. I don't even know him, really I just - he's an incredibly attractive man, and I didn't expect that to happen. I mean, he always seemed so horrible at school, and now, he looks like…"

"Like the 44 year old intellectual paragon of your fantasies?"

"PANSY!" This got Hermione laughing, though she still felt this weird feeling in her stomach over the fact that she found her old Potions Master attractive.

"You know," Pansy mused. "The age difference between 24 and 44 doesn't seem like that big a deal. I mean, for a lot of witches and wizards an age gap that big is practically normal."

"Seemed like a big deal when he was our teacher," Hermione grumbled.

"He's still our teacher. But now the whole Professor-Student thing is sexy, not weird. Besides, I never faulted you for thinking he was attractive. He has that whole bookish but dangerous thing going on, his voice is to _die_ for, and you could get lost in those eyes."

Hermione scoffed. "Pansy, do _you_ fancy Snape?"

The dark haired girl laughed. "Not at all, he's not my type."

"What is your type then?"

"Luna Lovegood."

Hermione blinked, stunned. "That's why you're trying to avoid a marriage contract with Nott, isn't it."

Pansy nodded, topping off her glass yet again. "My parents are very much in the 'this is just a phase' camp, and think that contracting me to a nice Pureblood boy will snap me out of it. Snape has been giving me advice on how to deal with them."

"Really? How so?" Hermione asked. "He's not gay, is he?"

"God no, he is definitely not gay. Honestly, I think he's slept with half of the witches in Paris, when I ran into him there he sure seemed to have his pick of them." This statement made Hermione feel physically ill, though she didn't know why. "Anyways, he was Head of House, remember? He knows how to deal with people whose parents are not so understanding, and how to diffuse situations. I don't know if he has specific experience with this kind of situation, but he's been great, well for him."

Hermione thought about all of this for a bit - Snape willingly helping a student deal with a difficult home situation, while weird to imagine, did not surprise her in the bit. He was always caustic, verbally abusive, and seemingly emotionless, but he did so much out of loyalty and duty that Snape remaining a source of advice for a former Slytherin did not surprise her in the least.

Shaking her head, Hermione looked back toward Pansy. "So, how long have you been with Luna?"

"Officially? Six months. Technically? On and off since she went back to repeat Seventh Year." A new voice joined the girls, as Draco and Blaise walked into the kitchen from the living room. Hermione wondered why she didn't hear the Floo activate, and if Pansy had missed it as well "Pansy, please tell me you didn't try to cook again," Draco admonished, placing another bottle of wine on the counter and bending to kiss Pansy's cheek.

"Don't worry Draco, I ordered takeaway."

Draco turned to face Hermione. "Last time she tried to cook Italian and burnt a hole straight through the bottom of the pot."

"It's not my fault Perseus and Georgina won't give me a House Elf until I get engaged!"

"Her parents," Blaise whispered as he took the chair next to Hermione. He reached across the table for the now-empty bottle of wine Hermione had brought over when she arrived an hour ago. "One bottle down already? What did we miss?"

"Nothing!" Hermione answered a little too quickly. The two men looked at her with a questioning look, and Draco was about to say something when the doorbell sounded.

"That must be the food. Blaise, Draco, go get it. I ordered a lot so I can have leftovers," Pansy ordered as if it was second nature. Sighing, they walked through the doorway and back into the living room.

"We will finish this conversation later," she said, not as a question but as a demand. She walked into the room behind them, leaving Hermione alone at the table. Sighing, she drank the rest of her wine and, summoning the new bottle Draco brought, followed them out of the room.

* * *

Severus lay flat on his back in his bed, staring up at the ceiling of his room. His mind kept going back to the conversation he had with Hermione Granger the day before, but his traitorous mind focused not on her offer to be his apprentice, but on the gentle curls in her hair and how soft her skin looked.

"Fuck," he sighed to himself, rolling over to grab the parchment on his side table. _Stop thinking about your student like that, Severus,_ he thought as he brought the parchment into his lap. In a move incredibly unlike himself, he wrote down the pros and cons of taking on Miss Granger as an apprentice.

The cons list was, currently, much longer than the pros. In fact, there were only two pros written down. He glanced over his list again, sitting up in bed to read his list more easily.

Cons:

Hermione Granger is insufferable Could get out that I'm alive and in hiding Don't want the press or Potter to find out Extra work and stress I don't need She is the most annoying student I've ever had Too much paperwork Never had an apprentice before, why now? I hate teaching

Pros:

She is the most brilliant student I have ever taught in my entire time as a teacher I would get to shape that brilliant mind

Severus sighed again, dropping the list to his bed next to him. He pinched the bridge of his nose - not because he was getting a headache, but because it was a habit formed when he was teaching at Hogwarts and under an unordinary amount of stress.

"Gilly!"

His elf popped into his room.

"A firewhiskey, please."

The elf nodded her head and popped back out.

He was stuck. His mind said he should tell her no and move on with his life. He owed the girl nothing. She was a thorn in his side for seven years, so why should he choose now to willingly spend one on one time with the chit?

On the other hand, she was brilliant. Incredibly brilliant. He was shocked to hear she had already obtained one Mastery, and was looking to obtain a second. Her decision to receive a Muggle education showed that she was thinking creatively about the field of Potions, rather than regurgitating material from the textbook as was her habit back in her youth. Her confidence and maturity, even in the few minutes where she was in his office, struck him. While she was still clearly nervous to be in his presence, it was not to the point where it prevented her from speaking her mind or showing her spirit. _She's easy on the eyes, too_ , his mind betrayed. He clenched his fists, as if the action could will his thoughts into submission.

"Merlin, defying the Dark Lord was an easier decision than this," he said to himself, knowing it was a complete exaggeration but still feeling it was slightly truthful all the same.

At that moment, Gilly popped back into his room with the requested firewhiskey. Along with the cut crystal glass, she had brought him the entire bottle and placed it on his side table.

"Thank you, Gilly," he nodded.

The elf nodded back, but did not leave his room. "Can Gilly speak freely, Master?"

Severus, confused by the request, bowed his head in allowance.

"Gilly is sensing Master is of confusion. Master has serious face on. Gilly thinks Master should follow Master's heart. Heart is never wrong. Heart can stop Master's confusion." With that, the elf nodded once more and disappeared from his room.

Severus blinked. He was always amazed by the intuition of House Elves. How Gilly knew he was struggling making a decision, he had no idea.

 _Follow your heart_ , the little elf had said. But what was his heart saying? More importantly, when was the last time he followed it without some ulterior motive of duty or morality?

He downed the glass in one, long swallow. "What am I getting myself into," he murmured to himself. But he steeled himself; if he was going to follow his heart, his decision was made. He would tell her on Monday, when she was back in his classroom. He just prayed he was making the right decision.

* * *

He didn't need to wait until the next time she was in his class; he came upon her the next day in a cafe, around the corner from where he lived. _How does she know where I live…? It's probably just a coincidence._ He shook his head to clear his thoughts, and began to observe her from his place in line.

She clearly didn't notice he was there. She had snagged a small table in the corner of the cafe, and was surrounded by textbooks and notebooks, with different colored pens filling in all the empty space where books did not rest. Her light blue shirt was wrinkled at the collar, and her sleeves were rolled up to her elbows. A delicate gold chain with a lion's head charm hung right beneath her throat. _Stop staring at her there, Severus_ , he mentally scolded himself as he approached the counter. He ordered his tea and turned back slightly toward her to finish his observation.

She was bent over her book and was frantically scribbling notes down on a piece of paper. Her fingers were stained with black ink, and perched on her face was a pair of large, wire-framed glasses. Confusion washed over him - he didn't recall her having vision problems in the past. The barista handed him his tea, and before he could stop himself he found himself walking over to wear Hermione sat.

"Miss Granger, I don't remember you needing to wear glasses in the past," he said softly.

She jerked, obviously surprised at the intrusion. "Oh! Professor! I'm sorry, you startled me."

"I seem to have that affect on people," he joked, surprising himself with the easy banter coming from his mouth. "So, when did your eyesight become impaired, or are you unfortunately becoming like the hoards of Potter fans wearing fake ones to be more like 'The Boy Who Lived Too Many Times'?"

Hermione chuckled at that. "That would be silly, wouldn't it? I don't understand how people think that wearing fake glasses would make them more like Harry, or more likely to get his attention. He had his eyesight partially fixed, you know? It's not perfect and he still needs his glasses sometimes, but not to the point that he used to need them." She smiled at him, and he took it as an invitation to sit down.

"So what happened to facilitate your need for them, then?"

"A combination of spell light damage and simple eyesight strain. During the Battle, a few too many spells passed by me at close range and the light weakened my eyes a bit. Then, I was doing a project abroad at Alexandria for my Arithmancy Mastery, and couldn't use any lighting spells, because it would damage the scrolls I was reading. Reading too much in the dim light exacerbated the damage. I only really need them to read, though." She took a sip of a coffee that he had not noticed previously and looked at him. "What brings you here so early on a weekend?"

He shrugged. "I decided to go for a walk, and get some fresh air, when I decided I wanted something to drink. I live around the corner, so it was a logical choice."

She smiled at him again. "What a coincidence, I live right next door!"

Despite her smile, Hermione was baffled. This was the most pleasant and cordial conversation she had ever had with her brooding, enigmatic professor, and the ease of it surprised her.

Her professor sat up straight, his facial features indicating he had something to say. "Miss Granger-"

"Hermione," she interrupted.

He looked at her with confusion. "Come again?"

She smirked at him. "You can call me Hermione. I'm 24 years old and have a Mastery. Just because I am still, technically, your student does not mean you need to address me as such. In some ways we are on equal footing. Besides, when you call me Miss Granger I feel like I'm eleven years old again. So please, call me Hermione."

Severus started again. "Hermione," he said slowly, as if he was trying it out for size. "It is actually fortuitous that I ran into you. I wanted to speak to you about your request that you made a few days ago in my office."

Her shoulder slumped a little bit, barely noticeable but for the trained eye; if he was not a former spy trained to pick up on body language, he doubted he would've seen the motion.

"I understand, Professor. Asking to be your apprentice was a long shot anyways. I imagine you have a lot on your plate, and we were never particularly close at Hogwarts. Don't worry about it, sir, I'm sure I'll find someone eventually, though not as skilled as yourself."

Severus was taken aback. He didn't realize how much she had already resigned herself to a rejection from him. _She must really want me to teach her, if she asked expecting a no already_ , he thought.

"Miss-Hermione, on the contrary. I was hoping to discuss the acceptance of your offer, though I will have strict rules and requirements in place for our arrangement."

Hermione stared at him with her mouth slightly open; she had not expected him to agree with her request. "S-Sir?"

'Close your mouth, Hermione, it is not an attractive look on a young woman."

Her mouth snapped shut, surprised at both, still, his agreement to teach her, and his somewhat backhanded compliment. _Did he just call me attractive? I mean…kind of?_

"I do not want to regret making this decision before we even start, so don't make me. I am willing to discuss the possibility of taking you on as an apprentice, but as I said there will be rules in place."

"Do you want to discuss it now or…"

Severus made to stand. "Unfortunately, I have a meeting to attend, so right now is not a good time."

Hermione began flipping through the stacks of notebooks on the table, clearly looking for something. Severus watched her as she did this - the way her hair fell softly against her shoulders, her eyes sparkling with excitement through her concentration, how the blue of her shirt and the gold of her necklace brought out the slight tan in of her skin. _She's enthralling. Why did I just think that?_

Her pulling something out from underneath a heavy book broke him from his train of thought.

'Well, Sir, I know you're busy…" she trailed off, looking through what was clearly a leather-bound planner. "Can you meet at four on Tuesday? No, wait, that won't work you have classes then, shit! Oh, sorry Sir, I didn't mean to…wait how about eight am on Thursday before classes start?"

She looked up, and her caramel eyes sparkled with eagerness, but also held something he had never seen as her Professor at Hogwarts. _Merlin damn me, she's actually matured_. It made something bubble inside of him that he hadn't felt in a while, and the feeling made him uncomfortable.

"No, ideally we'd be able to start this week, if all goes well. Besides, the week is difficult because you never know _what_ _student_ is going to do something to threaten the safety of others, or need disciplinary action. Meet me at my office tonight at seven, we can go somewhere to grab dinner and talk about the position. I will see you tonight, Miss Granger." He stood up and walked away, his black coat swirling out around him like his old teaching robes.

"Hermione!" she called after him with a smile. Her smile then turned to panic when she realized the implication of what he asked. She whipped out her phone and dialed the first number she thought of.

"Pansy, I need you."

* * *

"Wait, WHAT?"

"I ran into Snape at the cafe next to here, he said he was considering accepting my desire to be his apprentice, and then he asked me to dinner."

"So this is, what, a date?"

"I don't know? It's like a quasi-date? I don't know what to do, Pansy. Normally I'd call Ginny, but since she can't know he's alive I honestly have no clue what to do! Pansy, what do I DO?" Hermione almost shouted.

Pansy paced in front of Hermione's sofa, where the curly haired witch was currently lying on her back. She was staring wide-eyed at the ceiling, talking a mile a minute out of nerves.

"First of all, calm down. You're getting too worked up, and that's not helping. Second, let's call Ginny."

Hermione rolled on her side to look at Pansy. "What? What part of 'she can't know Snape is alive' do you not understand?"

Pansy brushed an invisible bit of dust off her shoulder. "We don't need to tell her _who_ you're seeing. Just that you're going on a date with a man that you know from your past, and you don't want to say who it is because this is extremely out of the blue and you're not sure if it will lead to anything."

Hermione looked down at her hands. "I don't know…"

"Look, she obviously calms you down. She makes you think clearly, and that is something you desperately need right now. Besides, I could dress you however I want, but you probably wouldn't feel comfortable. If she's with us, she can tell me what is and is not good for you."

"Why are you focusing on clothes, I feel like my chest is going to explode with nerves."

Pansy sighed. "If you look good when you see him, you'll feel less nervous. Trust me."

Taking a deep breath, Hermione took out her wand and conjured her Patronus. She spoke her message - "Ginny, come to my apartment as soon as you can" - before sending the otter off through her window.

She looked to Pansy. "She'll probably be here within fifteen minutes."

The two girls sat and waited. They chatted about their class together, the rest of Hermione's studies, how different Oxford was from Hogwarts - besides the obvious Muggle population. But Hermione could barely focus. Her heart was beating furiously, and her stomach felt like it was at a gymnastics competition, the way it was flipping around inside of her.

She was going to dinner with Professor Snape. For all of Pansy's teasing, she knew she found the man attractive, and his intellect was something to be explored and savored, like a wine that had been sitting in a rack, waiting for a special occasion to be opened and tasted. His voice tied her up in knots, and his ease with himself now that he was no longer a spy made him more prone to smirking in a non-malicious way, which sent a small tingle down her spine.

She didn't know how she was going to do this. Dinner meant a conversation rather than snide comments in passing. Since finding out he was alive, they'd shared short bouts of conversation, one where he completely dominated the playing field and one where she was so shocked she felt she could barely contribute. But a dinner, where the two of them would be alone for a prolonged period of time, expected to share in the conversation equally? She didn't know if she could do it. She didn't know how she was expected to sit there and talk to him like an adult for hours, and not feel like she was simply reverting to her schoolgirl days, where Professor Snape loomed over her without providing an inch of approval.

But wasn't she Hermione Granger? Not only lauded as the Brightest Witch of Her Age, considered wiser and more mature than her peers to the point where she was given a Time-Turner at age 13? She had always gotten along better with adults than with those her own age, and could have a conversation with anyone if she found the topic engaging enough - which she usually did. Besides, she should be excited. Snape was actually considering her request to be taken on as his apprentice, which she never thought would happen. All she had to do was keep a level head and she'd be fine. _Right?_

A sudden rush from the fireplace interrupted Hermione's musings, and Ginny stepped through, red hair a mess around her shoulders but looking eager and curious. Surprisingly, when she saw Pansy in the room, she did not immediately take up the defensive, nearly stared at the girl intently.

"Parkinson. Haven't seen you in a while. What brings you here?"

Pansy nodded at the redhead. "Weasley. You look well. Hermione asked me to come here. Seems she's in a bit of a bind and needs our help."

Ginny looked shocked for a moment, but quickly tried to hide it, albeit rather unsuccessfully. "I didn't realize you two were friends."

"We have a class together, Gin, and she's not nearly as bad as she was at Hogwarts," Hermione called sullenly from the couch, shortly followed by a sarcastically muttered thanks from Pansy. "Now can you help me or not?"

Ginny sat down in the chair closest to her, angling her body so she was staring at Hermione straight on. "What's the problem?"

To her surprise, Pansy answered. "She's having boy troubles," she said with a grin.

Hermione rolled over onto her stomach and buried her head in a pillow. "This isn't funny, Pansy!" She then propped herself up on her elbows, blowing a piece of hair out of her face before turning to look at Ginny.

"I ran into someone I knew from a few years ago recently, and he has asked me to get dinner with him, and I do not know if I should treat it like a date or like a dinner simply between two colleagues or what. I can barely focus over my stomach attempting to become a circus acrobat. For once, I need you two to do my thinking for me. I am completely out of my depths here."

Ginny leaned back in her chair. "I have some follow up questions. Where did you run into him?"

"Here at Oxford."

"Is this guy a Muggle or a wizard."

"Wizard."

"Do you know where you're going to eat?"

"Not a damn clue." Hermione finally moved to sit up normally, brushing her hair from her eyes but still not making eye contact with either other girl in the room.

"Did we know him at school?"

"Yes."

"Is he our age or is he older?"

"Oh he's older alright," Pansy responded with a smirk. Hermione threw a pillow at the girl in response, and she tumbled back into the empty chair she was standing next to.

Ginny scowled at Pansy. "Are you going to tell me who he is?"

Hermione shook her head. "Not a chance."

Ginny huffed out a breath and fell back into the chair she was sitting in, running a hand through her hair. "So you're telling me you have a maybe date with a mystery older wizard that you won't tell me about?" Hermione nodded. "I see your problem."

Pansy walked into the kitchen as if she owned the place, and came back a few minutes later with a bottle of wine and a few glasses. "She's been panicking for hours. She says she hasn't spent one-on-one time with a guy really since she dated your brother, and then she didn't need to try so hard because, what was it you said?" She passed Hermione a glass.

"Once you live in a tent with a guy you don't really need to try hard to impress him," Hermione answered, taking a sip of wine.

Ginny reached for her own glass, downing a sizable amount and thinking to herself. "So you just need to feel confident. Regardless of whether it's a date or just a dinner meeting. If it's a meeting, you want him to see you as an adult who knows what she wants. If it's more than just a meeting…then the same thing applies, but just in a different context." Ginny winked, and Hermione shuddered.

After a brief silence, Hermione finally spoke again. "The more I think about it, the more I think it's not a date. There's no way it _could_ be a date. I think I was just so shocked by the fact that we're meeting over dinner rather than somewhere more neutral that I panicked." She took another sip of wine and twirled a piece of hair around her finger. "I think this is more about impressing him than anything."

Ginny had already finished her glass and put it back down on the table. "What time do you have to meet him?"

"Seven."

She looked at her watch. "So we have two hours until you need to be there? That's enough time."

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "Why will it take two hours to get me ready?"

Ginny laughed. "I'm budgeting in an hour for you being difficult."

Hermione glared, as Pansy began to push her to her bedroom. "Please, try to keep your difficulty down to a half hour, some of us are tired."

* * *

Hermione shut the door of the apartment behind her, leaving Pansy and Ginny sitting in the living room together.

"I ran into Luna the other day, she talks about you all the time. Very positively, too," Ginny started casually.

Pansy looked at Ginny. "She's the best thing that's ever happened to me," she said bluntly.

"Whenever she talks about you, her eyes light up. I don't know what you're doing, but keep doing it. She deserves to be happy." Ginny faced forward again, pouring more wine into her glass and taking a sip.

After a few minutes worth of silence, Ginny finally spoke again. "She's going to meet Snape, isn't she?"

Pansy's eyes widened. "How did you know?"

Ginny tossed her hair over her shoulder. "Older man we haven't seen in a while? Unless she's suddenly into Flitwick, then that's the only person it could be. On top of that, he was always the only one who could get her that worked up and nervous, she had a small crush on him her sixth year but will deny it as long as she lives. Besides, I never believed he was dead."

Pansy took a sip of wine and looked at her questioningly. "Why not?"

Ginny smirked. "His portrait never woke up."

The two girls stared at each other for a minute before looking straight ahead again. "This is either going to be a huge success or a disaster, isn't it?" Pansy asked.

"Yup."

"Should we wait here for her to get back?"

"Probably not, she likes to be alone when she's upset."

"Are we going to wait anyways?"

"Yes."

* * *

Severus did not know why he was pacing his office. He shouldn't be nervous. Miss Granger - _Hermione, Damnit_ \- had approached him with a problem, and he was the one would could either provide a solution or walk away. He held all of the power here - to either give her what she wanted or to turn her out. _So why am I acting like a teenager on his first date?_

It was 6:45; Hermione was due in his office in fifteen minutes. He had been hiding out here for the past hour and a half, and since he had arrived he cleaned the entire office, made a mess out of anger over nothing, cleaned it again, drank half a bottle of cheap whiskey, and tried to read a book on Peruvian shrubs and their use in Potions - though he only made it past the first five pages before his eyes glazed over.

All he was doing was meeting with her to discuss the terms of her apprenticeship. He was the one in control here. _Or I should be_.

He couldn't understand why he told her to meet him for dinner. There was no reason why they couldn't just sit and talk in his office. But he was so distracted by the way the lighting in the cafe gave her skin such a golden glow, and the charming way her pen ink stained her fingers, and that goddamn _smile_ of hers that the words just spilled out before he could stop himself. Then, he allowed himself to leave before he could stumble over his own words or take them back. Severus sank down into his desk chair, his head in his hands. It had been ages since he had allowed himself to act irrationally. Why on earth was he starting now.

He chanced a glance at his watch. 6:52. She would be here soon. Looking down at his desk, he began reconsidering his choice of where to take her for dinner. It couldn't be too formal of a restaurant, since _this was not a date_ , but at the same time he didn't want to appear uncaring, so it couldn't be overly casual as well. Granted, with the entirety of the world easily as his disposal - thanks to apparition - that did not narrow down his choices in any way.

Severus was finishing up going over his restaurant choice again for the 100th time when he heard a timid knock at the door. He looked at his watch again; 6:57, the girl was early. Waving his hand to clear up any mess he created in his fit of anxiety over the past hour, he cleared his voice and said, "Enter."

Slowly, the door pushed open and Hermione slipped in. "I'm sorry I'm early, sir. I've been here for a few minutes already and I felt foolish just standing outside your door for no apparent reason whatsoever."

"That is fine, Miss Granger, I was ready to go myself," he replied, trying to sound as unaffected as possible.

She smirked at him. "How many times over the course of this evening am I going to have to remind you to call me Hermione?"

His only answer was a snort that half-seemed like a laugh. He held out his arm to her. "Come, we have an apprenticeship to discuss."

Timidly, she reached out and wrapped a small hand around his bicep, and in a split second they disappeared from his office.

* * *

Hermione could not tell where they were when they arrived, but it was loud and bright and something smelled divine. Looking at the alleyway they apparated into, she could tell the architecture was old, but that was all.

"Where are we?" She asked as they began to walk out of the alleyway and into the main street.

"Italy. Piazza Navona. I was in the mood for pizza. Come, I'm starving."

He walked her over to a restaurant facing the middle of the Piazza, and they were immediately seated outside. A waiter came over, and Severus ordered a bottle of the restaurant's house red and two glasses, but Hermione barely noticed; she was too busy taking in the sights and sounds of the fountains in the Piazza, the smells of the food coming out of the restaurant, and the general atmosphere of being in Rome.

"I haven't been to Italy since I was a little girl," she mused, more to herself than to Severus, but he smiled nonetheless. "I've always wanted to come back here."

"Well then I'm glad I was able to facilitate your return. Now, don't we have an apprenticeship to discuss?"

Severus watched as she shrugged out of her jacket - it was quite warm out - and tried not to stare at the thin straps of her black dress. He hadn't really taken the time to see what she was wearing, and most of her outfit was cut off by the table and the fact that she was sitting down, but the tiny straps and the neckline that dipped ever so slightly down to the swell of her breasts made his mouth dry. He was thankful when the wine arrived, and took a sip to try to loosen his tongue.

"Sir, I-"

"Severus," he interrupted.

Hermione looked at him, head tilted in confusion. "Sir?"

He smirked. "If I am to accept you as an apprentice, you shall be required to call me 'Sir' or 'Master' during lessons, and you will still be required to call me 'Professor' during regular class times and if you run into me on campus. However, while we are outside of that context, such as right now, you may feel free to call me Severus. You've extended me the same kindness, and your reasoning is, in fact, sound."

"Okay…Severus," she said, slowly, as if she was testing out the syllables rather than just saying his name. She picked up her wine glass and took a sip, savoring the taste on her tongue. "What would your terms be?"

Before he could answer, the waiter came back to their table, and Severus ordered their pizza (in flawless Italian, she noted). After the waiter walked away, he turned to answer her.

He looked over his glass at her. "First of all, you will not tell anyone absent of those who know I am alive that I am your Master. If anyone asks, you found one at Oxford. I will begin drawing up paperwork as soon as we agree that will file me as a Master under a fake name, with you as my apprentice. It pays to have a connection in the higher-up places of the world, and someone at the Ministry who is aware of my…situation will be able to take care of this discreetly."

"That works for me, si-Severus. I understand how important your privacy is to you, and I wouldn't want to do anything to compromise that."

"So your little friends won't ask too many questions?"

Hermione scoffed. "Honestly, the second I start talking about my apprenticeship search, Ron shuts down. Harry will only care that I found someone to study under, but other than that will probably tune out not long after." She took a long sip of her wine, and Severus pretended not to stare as she licked the excess from her lips. "What else?"

Severus took a small piece of parchment from his pocket, and discreetly enlarged it to its natural size. "I've taken the liberty of copying down your current schedule, Hermione. As usual you have overloaded yourself with coursework, no doubt to keep your status as the resident brain wherever you are studying firmly in tact." He slid the parchment across the table to her. "The classes that are marked in red are classes that I would like you to drop starting immediately. This will be a lot of work on your part, and I do not want you to become overwhelmed and start letting your work slide. We will also likely need the extra time for your work; the classes that I have indicated overlap with free periods I have this semester. You will treat this like a job. The nature of the Master-Apprentice relationship may have changed with the times, but you will still take this as seriously as intended, and that means making sacrifices if you want this to work."

She looked down and examined the parchment. Four classes had been crossed out, two Magical and two for her regular course of study. She was disappointed at having to lose out on the classes - everything she was taking was so interesting - but she knew he was right when he talked about making sacrifices, and she would rather learn potions from the best than be stubborn about her course load.

"I can do that."

At that moment, their food arrived, so the pair paused their discussion and dug in, eager to enjoy their meal. The pizza was, naturally, delicious. Hermione closed her eyes and truly savored the flavor - she didn't remember the last time she had tasted something quite as good. Everything tasted so fresh, and the flavor exploded on her tongue.

The two of them took the opportunity of the lull in conversation to look around the piazza. A couple people had brought out guitars, and were sitting on the edge of one of the fountains playing. The sun was beginning to set, casting a golden glow over the entire area, and Hermione couldn't help but to sigh at the beauty and peacefulness of it all. She forgot how much she loved Italy; out of all of the places she and her parents had traveled together, it had always been her favorite.

She was so caught up in staring out at the piazza that she did not notice when the waiter came with two more glasses of wine. Severus coughed to gather her attention, and she blushed as she turned to face him once more.

"Sorry, you can't blame me for being distracted. This country truly is beautiful." She smiled shyly at him, and something inside of Severus twisted.

"No, I don't believe I can blame you," he murmured in response. "I have one last requirement."

"Which is?"

"I must warn you Hermione that this will not be a game. I don't know what the rules and requirements looked like with your Arithmancy master, but I assure you I will be much tougher on you. Whenever I tell you to do something, I need you to do it. No questions asked. Do not go snooping around for more information, do not fight back on whatever I ask, I need you to do whatever I tell you. If you do not think you can do that, then I suggest we leave this agreement and never speak of it again. I will be hard on you. I will push you. I will test your ability to the point where you want to collapse. But I assure you," he almost purred, "that should you come out of this on the other side, you will be one of the most formidable Potions experts the world has ever seen. Can. You. Do. This?"

Hermione was completely entranced by his speech. While he was talking, his voice had dropped down an octave, and he was speaking in the most seductive tone she had ever heard. In that moment, she would have done anything he asked, and the thought of that scared her.

"I can do it."

He sat up straight at her answer, and began to dig through his pockets. "Well, if you are absolutely sure…" He pulled a beaten silver cuff, about an inch and a half wide, out of his jacket and held it out to her. She was given a similar one during her Arithmancy apprenticeship. The bracelet was a symbol of being in an apprentice-Master relationship. The metal was inlaid with a large stone in the center; while her Arithmancy bracelet had a light blue stone, the one she was being handed now had a dark purple stone, almost black.

Hermione, distracted by the deep color of the stone, absent-mindedly held out her wrist, and didn't stop staring at the stone until she felt the brush of Severus' fingertips on her wrist, where he slipped the cuff onto her.

"Congratulations, Miss Granger. You are officially a Potions apprentice," he murmured, drawing his hand back slowly and reaching for his glass. "A toast to your future successes."

Hermione picked up her own glass, tapping the edge against his and taking a sip of her wine. "Thank you for this opportunity, sir. I promise I won't let you down."

"I'm sure you won't," he replied, more to himself, as he let himself watch her, as she let herself be carried away by her surroundings once again.

* * *

They returned to England an hour and a half later, having split a few more glasses of wine and a cheese platter between them. Hermione looked around, somewhat surprised that he knew where she lived; he had Apparated them right to the front door of her building. She turned to face her companion.

"This evening was fantastic, thank you Severus. And thank you so much for giving me the opportunity to study under you. This means more to me than you know."

Severus gave her a small half-smile. "Don't get too excited, this is not going to be easy for you. This won't be just copying things verbatim from books."

Hermione chuckled. "I know, but I've outgrown that habit. Besides, I like a challenge."

He stared at her for a minute, and Hermione couldn't tell if his gaze made her feel excited or uncomfortable.

"You have changed, Hermione."

Hermione blushed. "Is that a bad thing?"

"I have not decided yet." He took a step closer and picked up her hand, placing a chaste kiss on the back. "I shall see you Monday. Goodnight." He took a step back and Apparated away.

Hermione stared at the spot where Severus Snape was standing barely a second ago, mind trying and failing their final short exchange. She turned unsteadily, stumbled through the door, and somehow made it to her apartment before she fell on the floor with a huge grin on her face. She didn't even notice that Pansy and Ginny had fallen asleep on her couch.


End file.
